


Threat of the Cumulonimbus

by fairydustedtheory



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, First Kiss, Frustration, M/M, Sharing Clothes, Stiles Stilinski's Scent, Thunder and Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25483258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairydustedtheory/pseuds/fairydustedtheory
Summary: There’s a threat in town. The pack wants to put Stiles out of danger by having him erase their scents from his life. He doesn’t appreciate it and doesn't stay out of the way either. Stilinski style.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 8
Kudos: 214
Collections: A Very Sterek Summer fest 2020





	Threat of the Cumulonimbus

**Author's Note:**

> Written for A Very Sterek Summer 2020. Day 5, theme How's the Weather?  
> 
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://fairydustedtheory.tumblr.com/tagged/plot%20twist%20:%20i%20write)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Stiles hated spring cleaning. He hated the idea that his life and home had to be reset. He hated the concept of going through every part of his house and erasing things. It wasn't like some hidden dust was ever going to hurt anyone. He hated it even more now because it was summer, the hazy hot weather made the whole thing insufferable.

The worst part of course was that it wasn't about cleaning at all. It was about erasing a piece of himself. It was about erasing the pack from his life.

It was supposedly a thing he had to do right now. No choice in the matter whatsoever. 

There had been growling and rumbling and _fuck thats_ thrown into the mix. The fuck thats had been coming from Stiles' mouth only. No one had been backing him up saying this was clearly a travesty. No one had said that there was no way Stiles was ever going to erase the pack for even a second. 

It had been decided then. They all laughed about it as if everything was all roses and rainbows. Okay, so nobody actually laughed, but Stiles was still very pissed at all of them.

He wasn't being thrown out of the pack, nothing dramatic like that, he was very much still pack. He actually was too much of a pack member, undeniably pack yet undeniably still very much human. That was apparently a problem now.

They had been in the clear of any threats in ages. The whole mess of teenage years behind them, the pack had grown strong and healthy. Very healthy and very bonded. Stiles was content with his place, he was happy still being human. Yeah, he had been possessed once and also forgotten at some point. He was still human though. He wasn't fragile, he wasn't useless, he was pack, he was human. Why did that have to be a bother now?

Because the wolves were some overprotective assholes, that was why.

The bonds were now too noticeable they had said. The pack had been pack for years. They weren't scrambling anymore. All of it could have been good news. It was good news in itself. Except that now there was a new threat looming. 

They had no idea what it was yet. 

Stiles didn't even know who said it first but there it was again, being human was a liability. _Ugh._ He wondered sometimes why no one was even trying to pressure him into getting the bite anymore. That had only been Uncle Peter once upon a time, never anyone since.   
It wasn't that he wanted the bite, he liked being human and it was goddamn useful sometimes. Most times really. When wolfsbane, mountain ash, mistletoe and all the other kinds of kryptonite were out there making all the super-powers more like super-weaknesses, there entered the weak human saving the day.

Stiles could very well be considered the hero here. How many times did he save all of their asses? 

  
Beacon Hills was a small town and everyone knew everyone else's business. Was the supernatural still hidden? That was the million dollar question, the answer was probably debatable. It wasn't out in the open but yeah people knew.

How could these idiot wolves even believe that Stiles would be able to erase them. Erase their scents from his house, okay that could be done, though Stiles was pretty sure their scent had been mixed with the cement over the years. Maybe even soaked into his skin somehow. But there was nothing to be done about his reputation in town. The sheriff's kid and his group of friends were very well known for all their shenanigans.   
Stiles really didn't care about who the threat was, if they weren't absolutely moronic (or too monstrous to go out in public) they would ask questions first. No amount of scent erasure would be able to destroy the connection between Stiles and the pack.

This was just about dumb wolves thinking they were so incredibly smart.

They were adamant. Stiles had no choice. 

That was why he was there rummaging through his closet to find that Henley he had borrowed from Derek months ago.   
Stiles had happily ignored the fact that he had been supposed to ever give it back. Wishful thinking told him that Derek had forgotten all about the Henley. A lost and found sort of deal, the Henley had been in Stiles' possession too long now and he very happily considered it his. What if he liked wearing that Henley? Nobody could blame him, nobody would say anything about it. It wasn't like he wore it when he knew he would be seeing Derek that day. He wasn't taunting him with a stolen piece of clothing.

No, Stiles had class, he wore the Henley when he knew he wasn't going to be seeing anyone from the pack. When he was just too busy in his human life with work or anything like that.  
It was one of these blue ones in which Derek looked really incredibly beautiful. It was maybe a shame that Stiles never gave it back because then he couldn't see Derek wearing it, but he had to choose his fight and being able to wear the Henley when he wanted to feel particularly pack and maybe just a little bit owned felt like the right fight to choose. 

It had all been fun and games and a stolen piece of property. It could have very well stayed that way for all eternity. Except that now there was a threat in town. A threat that required Stiles to get rid of everything.

The proof that Stiles' life was officially ruined came earlier today in the form of a text. Two texts.

**Derek (11:03) :** _I'll come by to get the pack's stuff around 4. Put everything in a airtight container._   
**Derek (11:05) :** _the shirt too._

It had taken two whole minutes of Stiles staring at the dancing little dots on his screen for Derek to type these three stupid words. As far as three little words went, it could have been worse. Stiles could have had to read or hear some other combination of words that he somewhat felt and craved but no, _no,_ that one particular combination of words wasn't his life at all.

These three words right here black on white on his screen were already on the painful side of awful. Knowing for a fact that Derek knew Stiles had kept the Henley. Stiles would take these three "the shirt too" words and shove them deep into that one unknown threat's ass. That was how terrible it was that he couldn't even pretend to hide his feelings about a stupid shirt anymore.

All of it was just so stupid.

Stiles threw the Henley in the box and closed it with a grunt. He was so mad at all of them. 

He had to deep clean his whole house because everything probably stank of wolves for any non-human nose. Did anybody think to ask him if he wanted to look at YouTube tutorials of how to deep clean curtains on one of his days off? No, nobody cared about that, nobody cared about what Stiles was up to as long as he stayed out of their way. 

Stiles cursed and cursed all day long and nobody was even here to hear him.

*-*-*

Derek came by in the afternoon as he said he would. He was always so infuriatingly punctual.

He didn't even want to step on the porch, let alone come in the house. He grabbed the box Stiles handed him with a curt nod. It didn't seem like he was going to say a single word. Come on now. Was he just going to leave like that? Were words forbidden too now?

"Is this really necessary? _Dude._ Come on. I'm not crumbling at the seams here. I can hold my own, you know that. You know that better than anyone." Stiles frowned.

He didn’t want to beg for a place in the pack. Fuck he had that place, he had earned it. There was a nice little Stiles shaped space in that pack just for him. And maybe that nice little Stiles shaped space was always very close to that Derek shaped space and maybe together they were somewhat of big unshaped space where both of them would be single entities but together. That made sense, right? Right. That was how Stiles saw it so it had to make sense. There was there in the pack an unformed space where his and Derek's individual spaces were supposed to collide somehow.

"We would make you a target." Derek said, looking at some point over Stiles' shoulder.

"Yeah but what else is fucking new?" Stiles practically shouted, before sighing, "I've been a target ever since I was seventeen..."

"Stiles. Please." Derek took a step back.

"Der, come on. This is you being paranoid and full of grump again, isn't it?" Stiles reached out a hand to him. 

Derek flinched away as if Stiles fingers touching his forearm would have made the angels cry or something. Fuck that. 

"I wash my hands you know. I wash my fucking hands!" Stiles was so mad. 

Was Stiles not allowed to touch anyone anymore? Taking a shower or washing his hands wouldn’t take away a wolf scent? Was that it? Was it that bad? Was he even allowed to hug his dad? His dad worked with Parrish and surely hanging around a Hellhound would leave a certain burned dog stench, wouldn’t it? Shit, maybe his dad had to distance himself too? Or was he not pack enough? So many questions and so few clear answers!

"This needs to be over." Derek said with that look of particular constipation he had when something really caused him extreme displeasure. 

"What?" Stiles' heart crumbled a little bit.

What needed to be over? Stiles felt like he was being dumped. How could be dumped when there was nothing going on?

They had been tiptoeing around something for a while now, at least Stiles felt that they were. He never said anything, Derek never mentioned it either. That first very confusing attraction that Stiles had felt as a teenager had grown into something very clear to him over the years. He hadn't planned it. He wasn't planning on anything. It wasn't like that childhood Lydia infatuation he had had since preschool. This was something else entirely.

Derek. Just Derek. All these lingering looks and touches. All these pack nights with Derek's arm around his shoulders, pressed together on the couch, and the way Derek would turn to whisper something stupid in Stiles' ear just to try to make him laugh even when they were watching some stupid historic drama because Erica was in one of these moods to see people dying. Cathartic she said.

Stiles couldn't forget how Derek had brought him chicken soup that one time he had the flu. How Derek had slipped into bed with him to cuddle him and pet him, how he kissed the back of Stiles’ neck as he played big spoon to Stiles’ little shivering spoon. How he did all that until Stiles had felt better and didn’t leave a second earlier than that. That hadn't been a fever dream... It was an hallucination. It had happened in real life, Stiles’ sheets remembered.

They were going somewhere. Stiles could sometimes dream of the moment they would maybe finally kiss or finally fuck or anything in between the two. It was coming their way. They were going somewhere. Relatively slowly but they were going.  
Everybody knew it.

"The threat. The threat needs to be over." Derek precised. 

Stiles pretended not to be relieved. There were a threat of dying somewhere in there after all. But as long as it didn’t mean their little mating tiptoeing dance needed to be over, Stiles was good. He could accept everything except that.

"But I can help. Who's going to do all the research?" Stiles felt like begging now. He hadn't had to sell himself as the sidekick or the researcher or the bait in forever.

Fuck he was back there, same stupid feeling of not being enough and wanted. It wasn't like that now but his brain wasn't getting the message quite clearly. He just felt rejected.

"Mason."

"Mason. Mason? Why isn't Mason forced to distance himself? He's human. And clearly as Liam’s best friend, he must have all the wolf smell all over him. Did you make him give back his shirt too?" Stiles gritted out. Stiles was somewhat bitter about the Henley.

"He’s not human enough." Derek replied in a very neutral tone. He openly ignored the shirt issue.

"Well fuck that!" Stiles threw his arms up in the air with a sigh.

"Just." Derek took a deep breath. "Just don't do what Stiles usually does. Okay?"

"Easy for you to say. You don’t have Stiles on your mind.” Stiles could swear he saw the corners of Derek’s lips twitch up a second. What a jerk. What a handsome and sexy jerk. Stiles wanted to kiss him and punch him at the same time. 

“Don’t come to the house.” was the last thing Derek said before leaving.

Stiles didn’t move for a long time. His heart twitched with some unpleasant feelings, sadness and anger, but most of all he just felt tired as if becoming intangible. The atmosphere too hot and too suffocating wasn't just caused by the humid tropical air. 

Derek had the decency to look sheepish as he looked down to the box in his hands before turning away and leaving without another word.

Fuck that.

*-*-*

Stiles didn't hear a word from them for days. Each passing day getting substantially warmer and Stiles getting substantially more agitated. They were actually planning on dealing with the threat without him. What the actual fuck was wrong with all of them?

He was walking down the street one day when he saw Boyd and Erica taking a walk with their baby in a stroller. They did it casually, smiling at the baby, holding hands.

As soon as they saw him, they crossed the street in order to not come close to him.

Anger bubbled inside him again. He wanted to scream that humanity wasn't contagious, that they could very well walk on the same pavement without anyone risking anything.   
Shit, he had no idea what the threat was or what the threat had even done to be recognized as one. He knew nothing. There had been no death that he knew of, nothing was being investigated at the sheriff station.

They didn't even want to take him on the phone to talk. 

The darkening clouds overhead really reflected what was happening in his own soul at the moment. It wasn't easy to cut the bonds cold turkey. It messed him up so badly that he had to dig through his drawers to find his extra bottle of Adderall. He hadn't felt the urge to take extra meds in a while, couldn't even remember how long. But now the jitters and restlessness were back in full force. Nothing seemed to be able to calm him down, it wasn't ADHD...  
Stupid wolves. Stupid Stiles for having withdrawal syndrome over previously mentioned stupid wolves. He was human, sure, but did they honestly believe he didn’t feel it?

Pack bonds were some powerful stuff, human or not.

The rising humidity condensing into droplets of sweat at the base of Stiles' neck got him feeling even more irritated. A itchiness spread all over.

  
"These fuckers don't even look threatened." Stiles muttered under his breath. "Threat of the cumulonimbus, that's all I see here."

As he said it, a loud crashing noise echoed through the sky. That sounded ominous. 

*-*-*

Stiles just couldn't take it anymore. He hopped in his Jeep and drove to the preserve. Most of the pack had to be somewhere around the pack house, there was no way they were all out and about when there was a threat in town. 

A few large warm water droplets fell on his face followed a distant crackle of thunder. He decided to ignore it, he wasn't scared of a little rain. He wasn't scared of that weird eery vibe he got from the woods either. It was somewhat similar to when the Nemeton had been awake all these years ago. Something wasn’t quite right.

Maybe he should have called first. That would have been a wise thing to do when there was supposedly an unknown threat somewhere. 

The initial crack of thunder was soon followed by another, a louder one, the forest illuminated by a sharp flash of lightning.

Stiles heard a distant growling sound. His fight-or-flight instincts could have been riling up in him, except for the fact that he was quickly stepping on the path up the hill to get to the pack house. Growling during a thunderstorm wasn't so unexpected. Was it?

He was still a little antsy, not especially afraid but there was a feeling of _something other_. Not pack.

He knew precisely every possible vibe that came off his pack members. That was how much he knew all of them. He had been able to tell Erica's happiness even before she had announced she was pregnant. He had been able to tell Scott's frustration even before he had known that his father was back in town yet again all these months ago. He was always able to tell when Derek had something to say to him but just wouldn't say the words out loud.

Stiles knew them. He knew each of them because they were his family, even if right now he wasn't supposed to come here and see them because he was just a lowly human or whatever the hell was up with him.

He wrapped his arms around himself, hugging himself against the slow pitter patter of rain and that strange unpleasant twist in his gut. He started walking faster this time.

A crack of lightning split the sky, Stiles nearly tripped, blinded by the light. He blinked, breathing in and out, trying to steady his heart.

  
There in the middle of the clearing, a dog stood, tense and still. Its only movements were some agitated flick of its tail as a huge roll of thunder echoed through the trees.

"Derek." Stiles said, keeping his voice flat in the hopes of not letting any fear or concern come across.

This wasn't Derek of course. Stiles knew. He knew Derek's wolf form, he could paint him with his eyes closed. He hoped Derek was listening. 

There was an echoing bang of thunder, a burst of bright light. The creature jumped, started leaping from tree to tree, its fur giving off an eery blue glow. Excitement bursting out of it as the electricity flew through the air. 

"Take it easy." Stiles soothed at the animal. He wasn't sure what to do, but running wasn't a choice here. 

Suddenly, it turned its head and its sharp gaze stopped on Stiles.

Holy fuck, Stiles was going to die.

The dog opened its mouth and let out a loud clap of thunder-like noise, just as one broke through the sky. Stiles’s heart stopped an instant.

In a lightning ball, he saw it sprung in his direction.

A loud crashing sound of tree branches cracking and breaking, wolf howling. Stiles' vision turned black as he fell to the ground.

*-*-*

"Stiles," A voice that sounded a lot like Derek said. "You can open your eyes now, you idiot."

Stiles' eyes fluttered open. He looked up at the still dark rainy sky. Above him stood, Derek Hale in all his beauty. 

"Am I dead?" Stiles asked, dumbfounded. "I could be dead and up in heaven and you are my beautiful, wonderful angel."

Derek was not even trying to resist the urge to roll his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Where's the creepy dog?" Stiles looked around and seeing no trace of it. Had he blacked out for that long?

"I caught it." Derek smirked, holding up a little glass jar between his thumb and index finger.

"That's not the dog, that's a firefly." Stiles snorted, scrambling to his feet.

"That's a Raiju." Derek stated. "It changed shape when it came close to you. And I caught it."

"Oh no. Oh Hell no. Another Japanese one?" Stiles frowned. "Did it try to possess me? Do I look like a good little meatsuit that all the Japanese mythical creatures want to get in me?!"

"He just wanted to sleep in you." Derek's face twitched in something Stiles didn't have the mind to analyze right now. "Because luckily, you smelled human."

"What?" Stiles was utterly confused now.

"Raiju sleeps in a human's navel. You might have gotten attacked if you had smelled wolf." Derek's stare was a little too intense. "You shouldn't have been here, but of course, you couldn't listen to me, to Scott, to anyone. And you got hurt..." Derek's free hand came up to cup Stiles' jaw and lift it up to look at some fast swelling bruise on the side of skull. 

"I got hit by a broken tree branch, didn't I?" Stiles scrunched up his nose, feeling his blood pounding hard against the bump. 

"Yeah." Derek breathed out. "Let's go back to the house. You might have a concussion. You’re staying here tonight."

"Wait." Stiles said, his jaw clenched. He frowned as Derek's hand let go of him.

Another boom overhead, a sharp lightning flickered. It was followed closely by gradually heavy pouring rain.

"You're gonna catch a cold." Derek shook his head, looking up, rain drops quickly falling on his face, wetting his hair. 

Stiles was already drenched. He didn't care.

"Touch me." Stiles said. If it sounded a little watery, it was just because of the storm. Nothing else really. _"Touch_ me. Hold me."

"What -"

"I'm bonded. Derek, _fuck,_ I'm pack." Stiles confessed in a whisper.

"I know but -"

"No buts." Stiles shook his head vigorously. That was his mistake, the movement drove a sharp pain to the bump on his head. He winced just slightly but continued, "I'm human I know. But I feel it, maybe not as strongly as a wolf, but dammit this week has been awful. I miss it, I crave it. I want a big puppy pile cuddle. I miss it, I miss you. I need... you."

Derek seemed frozen in place.

"And I want the shirt back." Stiles didn't stop, but he did avert his eyes a second admitting that part. Derek huffed a laugh little laugh. Stiles looked at him from under his lashes. "And I'm ready to exchange some renowned three words, whenever you're ready."

Fuck. That was as scary or as wonderful as saying the words themselves. Derek frowned. A confused look passed across his face.

Derek's lips twitched as he looked down, seemingly shy. "I'm not telling I love you for the first time in a thunderstorm. This isn't one of Allison's rom-coms." 

Fuck. That was almost as good a confirmation than having Derek say the actual words. Oh man, they were a thing for real. 

"Isn't it?" Stiles gave him a lopsided grin. He was freezing cold, he didn't even feel it.

"Well, I guess I could kiss you in the rain. As a compromise.” Derek's teasing smile, playful and so beautiful, made Stiles want to cry a little.

“Compromise? Yeah, I guess I can bend a little.” Stiles teased.

He licked his lips, tasting rain drops, as an invitation. Derek’s eyebrows shot up as he shook his head slowly, disbelieving.

Derek dropped the thing he was holding in his hands and closed the last distance separating them. He put both his hands on Stiles’ cheeks, fingertips playing with the few strands of soft hair above his ears.   
Derek looked at him with so much tenderness that Stiles could have swooned. This could very well pass for one of Allison’s rom-coms. She would never let them live it down if she knew. Or more accurately, when she _will_ know. What were even secrets in a wolf pack? Of course they would all ask about their first kiss.

Speaking of kiss, Derek was finally, finally, leaning down to brush his lips against Stiles'. His lips were soft, the scrape of his stubble tingly against Stiles’ skin. Almost so perfect that Stiles could almost think he was still passed out on the ground and this was but a figment of his imagination. So good.

A loud crashing noise startled them. Raiju had escaped from the glass jar and found his original dog form again. 

“Shit,” Stiles cursed, a hand going automatically to cover his bellybutton. Because no thank you, Stiles didn’t want a mythical lighting firefly sized dog to go nest in there. His happy trail was very happy being the sole ornament on his stomach. Maybe he wouldn’t say no to a little more abs but that was all there was to it. No need for any piercing or lightning bolt or anything. Stiles was quite happy with his body. 

Raiju barely glanced back at them before leaping on the tree to their left. It started running.

Thunder roared in the background, a little further north. In a second, Raiju disappeared following it. 

“Shit,” Stiles repeated for a different reason. “Should we follow it?”

“No.” Derek simply said.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “What? but what about-”

“It only rides the thunder. It’s not evil. You’re the only human I can imagine would want to go crawl in the woods during a storm. So I think we’re good.” Derek shrugged.

“You mean you tortured me for a whole week, separating me from my pack, and it was just a “meh” threat?” Stiles grimaced. That was it then? That was all this whole thing was about in the end?

“I didn’t know what was the threat at the beginning. I just felt something was wrong and I needed-“ Derek stopped himself. “Could we have this argument inside? You’re shivering.”

Stiles was shivering, full body tremors. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Raiju probably happy surfing on its electricity.

“Don’t think you’ll get away so easily.” Stiles felt the need to say as he let Derek’s hand pull him by the arm and toward the house. 

*-*-*

"Take your clothes off." Derek ordered as he closed the front door behind them.

Uh, yeah Stiles could go along with that plan. No problem. Nakedness mode activated.

Everybody was cooped up in their own rooms. Smart wolves. 

Derek disappeared a second, to come back with a towel, a pair of sweatpants and the infamous Henley. Alright so this wasn't sexy time but the Henley, Jesus fucking Christ, the blue Henley was back. Stiles beamed like he had just won the lottery. Derek closed his eyes seemingly defeated but for that corner of his lips betraying him. 

Stiles quickly dried his hair, took of his wet clothes, leaving a significant puddle of water on the nice floating wood floor, Derek had installed just a few months ago for it to be more comfortable for Erica's baby than to crawl on a cold tiled floor. 

Stiles was down to his underwear now. Luckily or unluckily, they were still almost completely dry. He had no reason to take them off. _Yet,_ Stiles thought. He quickly pulled Derek's sweatpants on, his body still shivering demanding warmth ASAP.

Derek stepped back into Stiles' space without a word, helped him put on the shirt. His warm hands caressing Stiles' thin body, so softly Stiles' skin responded to the touch by giving him more shivers. Amazing how all that werewolf strength was standing there in the living room, kind and gentle as he handled Stiles as if he was, not breakable, but precious. The most precious treasure. That was how it felt, that was what Stiles could read in Derek's eyes. 

"Derek," Stiles tried to say. It can out a little strangled. 

What could he say? I want you, I need you, I deep cleaned my house for you because there was a tiny lightening devil on the loose that nobody even cared enough about to chase when it got away? Yeah all that.

That first kiss in the woods had been nice but oh so chaste and Stiles wanted more of it and more everything.

Derek sighed. "I hated this week. I never want you to not be here and not be pack. But it’s one thing when we’re at peace, and it’s another when there’s a risk.”

“This Raiju wasn’t any real risk though. So maybe we could calm the paranoia down?”

“The pack wouldn’t recover if we lost you.” Derek admitted, after a few seconds.

“Dude. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Better you not being here than being dead.”

Stiles gave a dismissive snort. “Happy thoughts, Derek, that’s how you learn to fly. Dark thoughts only keep you on the ground.”

“Could you just listen to what I have to say for once in your life?” Derek scoffed. “The thing is you've come to smell a little too much like us, all of us, but also me, mostly."

"Let me cut you right there, Der,” Stiles made it obvious that he probably wouldn’t ever listen and let Derek speak when he was wrong. All valid points but wrong. “Let me just say that if this thing between us is going the direction I'm hoping for, I'm planning on smelling a lot more like you - us."

Derek didn't answer but the tip of his ears turned a nice shade of pink. Stiles bit his lips to contain his grin. This was a serious conversation after all. 

"There will be a point where there won't be any erasing us possible." Derek announced gravely. 

"Oh horror. How terrible a fate that would be." Stiles rolled his eyes. "Like it's not exactly what I want. I thought we were past this. I mean, I went to college, did my thing..."

"You were back here all the time. Every weekend and every break." Derek countered.

"Exactly what I wanted to do, yes." Stiles shrugged. "There's no getting rid of me. I am a little tired of people thinking that I should have a different life. This is my life, this is how I choose to live it. Would it be weird if I asked you to scent mark me?”

 _“What?”_ Derek was taken aback by the sudden change of tone.

“Like heavy hard-core scent marking. Like what you used to do when one of the wolves would have had some rundown with anything. That’s what I want. I feel like I’ve had a rundown with life without you. Does it make sense? I’m not sure it makes sense. Does it feel weird to you that I’m asking this? because I don’t want to weird you out. I would very much like for you to kiss me again, I would very much like for you to touch me again. So yeah naked full on scent marking, that’s what I want but if you’re not down for it, please just tell me before I make more of a fool out of myself.” Stiles rambled on, feeling more awkward with each new word.

“I don’t know what you imagine, but what you’re describing sounds a lot more like sex than it does marking" Derek huffed a small laugh at that.

“Oh yeah?” Stiles tried his best to sound innocent. “Well, as you wish. That would be fine too. I mean, I can compromise.” 

Derek rolled his eyes slowly and deliberately. Stiles smirked because he knew very well what that meant. Derek stepped closer.

Stiles didn’t wait for any more confirmation and pulled him into a hard press of lips. Derek’s hands found Stiles’ to loosen the death grip Stiles’ fists had on his shirt, still wet shirt Stiles only realized now.

Derek hadn’t changed out of his rain drenched clothes.

That wouldn’t do. Derek would be cold, Stiles couldn't let that happen.

Stiles leaned back just enough to pull Derek’s shirt over his head. In an instant Derek’s arms wrapped around him and pressed him flush against Derek's bare chest. Their mouths met again, chasing each other in a succession of kisses, growing more intense each time they met. 

Derek kissed a path the long of Stiles' jaw, down his neck, buried his face there, stubble igniting Stiles’ skin with burning kisses.

Yes good. Scent marking done right. Scent marking done perfectly right.

*-*-*

The thunderstorm passed and with it went any imaginary threat on Stiles’ life. The electricity that sparked between Derek and Stiles that night, well, that was a different story. The burning desire had been dormant a long time and had been woken thanks to a tiny little electrical ball of lightning. 

It was a good thing in the end that Stiles’ house was all cleaned and odorless. That was a perfect excuse to scent mark in every room.


End file.
